Big Sister
by Twisted Trans-Sister
Summary: A drabble series of various Titans and villans having a chance meeting with one ordinary citizen and learning what it really means to be a hero.
1. Train Ride

Summary: A drabble series of various Titans and villans having a chance meeting with one ordinary citizen and learning what it really means to be a hero.

Drabble One: Train Ride

"Crud! Nertz! Drat!"

Gizmo was throwing a small tantrum in the middle of Kick City Park. After a small mission from the H.I.V.E regarding the theft of a high tech microchip, it had once again been thwarted by the Teen Titans. In the confusion of battle, Gizmo had been seperated from his team, who were quick to flee. Now he was lost in another city with a broken harness, no microchip, no money, and therefore no way to get back to Jump City. So he vented the only way he knew how; like a spoiled little kid.

Finally he flumped exhausted onto a park bench and snuggled into his coat. At least he was warm enough...

"Isn't it a little late for kids to be out in the cold?"

Gizmo jerked up and saw a someone standing across from the bench. A older teen, she had flat, dull black hair, tired eyes, and was a good deal taller. Her clothes were simple, browns and maroons, radiating heat from the icy road. Gizmo sneered. In all sense, she looked so boring and ordinary, even with a broken harness she was a wimp.

"None of ya business lady!"

"You're lost aren't you?"

Gizmo was taken aback. How'd she guess?

"I told you its none of your business! So buzz off!" She shrugged in reply.

"Fine. But the next train to Jump City in in ten minutes and I'm only five minutes from the station." And she started walking off. Gizmo was getting fidgety. First she knew about him being lost, and now this? It was too coincedental. Maybe she was a Titan in disguise...didn't that Raven girl have black hair? He continued fidgeting. She was still in sight. And if she knew her wasy around, and was going to the station...

"Crud!" he cursed finally, before dashing full speed to her side. She never complained as he caught up, panting and shivering in the cold. She merely scooped up his hand and kept walking. Embarassed, he tried pulling feebly away, before giving up and shoving his other hand in his pocket, letting his other be held in the warm, gloved hand of the lady. He kept his head down and blushed, afraid to be seen by anyone, Titan, fellow H.I.V.E student, or regular joe. It was a warm, but odd feeling, having someone pull him along gently, like a little duck falling behind his mother. She pulled out a wallet as they descended down the stairs to the train station, pulling out an ID and some bills. He peeked at the ID. Myra Tucker; 19, Programmer for Jones Inc. Completely ordinary.

"One adult and one child ticket please," she instructed the ticketmaster, as if she'd done it all her life. As they pulled away, he muttered.

"I'm no kid lady!"

"You wanted to go home right?"

Embarassed at his lack of words, he pulled his head back down bashfully. This was so irregular. Some traveling lady just picks him up and acts like his freaking mother, when he hadn't...not for years at least...been familiar with being a son. Like in the park. She knew everything at a glance, but let him come, like a mom pretending to leave a child somewhere, only to have them come running behind them in realization that they're being left behind. And at the ticket station. She hadn't scolded him, but reminded with only a small lace of discipline. It was so weird.

They took a seat, him being tucked by the window. He protested to her picking him up and buckling him in, and fumbled around in humiliation as he did it himself. She packed up a duffel bag in an overhead compartment as an old couple chuckled at the fuming Gizmo.

"What a sweet little brother she has," the old wife complimented.

Gizmo boiled up and was about to retort she was a senile old cronie who didn't know what she was talking about, but simply huffed in annoyance. Myra said nothing once more, but a small twitch at her upper lip showed slightly. She pulled off a thick woolen jacket and set it in her seat.

"I'll be back, watch my coat okay?"

Gizmo mumbled something incoherent which Myra took as a 'yes' before walking off. Gizmo looked forlornly out the window. The train was moving now, and snow had begun to fall lightly outside. The scenery quickly began to change, from neon lights and cold concrete, to frosted fields under a dark, snowy sky. Gizmo was tired, physically and emotionally. First he gets his butt kicked by the Titans _again_, then he ends up getting lost, and now he's being coddled by a complete stranger. A Monday at H.I.V.E Academy was nothing like this...

Myra was quick to returning, holding two steaming cups. She held one out to Gizmo.

"If you don't drink something warm, you'll catch cold so I bought some hot chocolate at the dining car. I hope you like marshmallows."

He snatched it warily from her hands, sniffed at it, before tenatively taking a sip. It was hot, and singed his tongue, but it was sweet and had a quality that warmed him up inside. Myra was reading a newspaper and sipping at a coffee, looking boredly at the front headlines. Gizmo's chest tightened at the bold title: TEEN TITANS WIN AGAIN. Followed was an ovation of how the Titans managed to thwart even more criminals. Luckily, that night's headlines couldn't have been out yet. He couldn't help but be horrified at what Myra would do to him if she found out he was a villain. Somehow it was scary compared to what he'd been through in the past. It definitely would've hurt more...

The warmth of the drink buzzed through his brain hazily, as he suppressed a yawn. Myra peeked from behind the newspaper to see Gizmo steadily falling asleep. As his eyes began to shut, losing the fight against the drowsiness, a soft weight pressed him gently in the seat, and he felt coocooned somehow. Something tucked him in gently in an upright seat as he drifted away to dreamland. Myra simply smiled and patted his head lightly. It would be a few hours yet before they reached Jump City, and he needed rest after his busy day...

As he fuzzily began to wake, a soft light seemed to glow above him. He was coocooned in something warm and firm, like a spacey hug. He felt fleece tickle his nose as he opened his eyes slowly and yawned. He was tightly wrapped in a jacket, underlined with soft fleece and covered with rough, warm leather. It had an overall smell of pears and a sweet kind of sweat, worn out as the armholes curled and whisped in response to extra use. He was leaning against Myra, who had flickered on an overhead light and was reading the newspaper. He pulled away, body protesting from extraction from comfort. He grumbled slightly at the embarassing situation.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" he whined. Myra flicked his forehead, as if scolding a, well, a whining boy.

"We're here, but we need to wait for our car to be called for exit, and theres four other cars to go." she chided lightly, not taking her eyes off the paper. Gizmo grumbled some more before leaning back with a pout. It would be midnight soon, and he needed to get back to the base before Brother Blood...He shivered. He didn't even want to contemplate the horrors he would be faced with on his return. If it wasn't copying the Twenty Laws of Evil it would most definitely be make-up training. Either one was unimaginable and Gizmo very much would like nothing more than to stay on this warm train forever.

It took the gentle tug of Myra's hand on his to get him moving. They walked quietly along with the mixed and scattered group of people taking the late train. As they ascended the stairs and walked out the door of the station, Gizmo's insides twisted. It was terrifying; he had only discovered this odd comfort and now he he would be leaving it. Myra had led him through to the station, and without realizing it, he was leading them away. His own small hand was pulling her along, silently asking for comfort and protection until he returned to the Academy. About three blocks away from the H.I.V.E, he stopped and gradually let go of Myra's worn, gloved hand. She looked gently upon him as he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"My home isn't too far off now....so...bye I guess..." he muttered. Myra kept looking at him as Gizmo looked down abashed at the ground. Of all the cliche' things to happen! It would so much easier if she just left...

Until a soft pressure on his forehead snapped his eyes open.

A small, sweet kiss on Gizmo's forehead made him feel even warmer and fuzzier than the hot chocolate and jacket on the train had combined. Myra knelt down to Gizmo's level and gave a rare smile, giving a motherly, tender stroke to his head.

"Gizmo...." he had to bite back a gasp at the realization, "Always know that there is always two sides to a person. It all depends on which side they choose to grow on. If you grow to be an honest person, you'll have a good honest future. If you don't then you'll find some of your branches to be twisted." she gave a soft, rare smile, "You're still just a little seed, so you can choose which way you want to grow."

Standing back up, still smiling, she turned slowly away and walked back down the street, catching snowflakes in her hair, crunching snow on the ground. Gizmo watched until she walked out of sight. His mouth gave a funny jerk at an attempt to smile before running down to the Academy.

She may have been out of sight, but she was never out of mind.


	2. Best of the Best

Summary: A drabble series of various Titans and villans having a chance meeting with one ordinary citizen and learning what it really means to be a hero.

Drabble Two: The Best of the Best

One, two, three...

With swift punches to the training dummies, The Boy Wonder struck like a hawk. A spinning kick sent another four flying, just as they were quickly replaced by more. Sweat barely dripped off his brow as he continued the merciless pummelling of the soulless droids.

One, two, three...

And suddenly it stopped. The dummies ceased movement, and Robin found his last punch to be taken easily as the last one went flying across the room. In his shock, he scanned the room for the reason they had suddenly shut down. He wasn't surprised to see Cyborg with his hand on the switch that had shut off the practice driods. Even though he was smiling, he had a definite look of concern on his face. Robin looked disappointedly at him. It irritated him to no end to be interrupted in the middle of practice.

"It's been almost two hours Robin. How about a break? We can play that new game BB brought in last night." Cyborg offered gently. He knew to tread carefully when Robin was annoyed.

"I haven't got this last technique down yet. I need to perfect it." Robin made a move to turn the switch back on, but his hand was caught by Cyborg. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"We're all worried Robin. You've been training like crazy lately, we've barely seen you, save for missions. You can take a break for at least an hour." Robin's brow twitched in irritation.

"The Brotherhood of Evil won't be taking a break! Slacking off isn't a professional way to keep them at bay!" He tried to turn the switch on again, but Cyborg's broad chest remained firmly in the way.

"Just take an hour off. One hour, that's all. Go into town and relax for a while." Robin opened his mouth to retaliate, but then closed in, grinding his teeth angrily.

"Fine. One hour. Then it's back to practice."

After storming out of Titan Tower, brooding and attracting uneasy gazes, Robin found himself a small cafe', pumping his foot in anxious irritation. He sipped a little at his drink, and sighed dejectedly. He should've known better than to kave gotten so snappish with Cyborg. It had been obvious the others were anxious too. Everytime they tried to greet him with a smile, it was all forced, all hesitant. Robin could be as unpredictable as a storm. Sometimes he felt he had the prescence of a tame bear, not dangerous, but not at all comforting either. He tried to avert such thoughts by distracting himself. He looked outside to the busy street, hoping to find some form of distraction.

It was bustling, as usual on a weekday like today. Small groups of students hung around laughing at the restaurants, no doubt on some celebrity affair or the other. Professional businessmen looking impaitently at watches as they hurried down the street, followed by fussy assitants. A small pack of shady men tracked after a young woman-

Wait, what?

Robin did a double take. Indeed, a small gang of hooded men followed a young, dark haired woman carrying a laptop bag and a purse, each slung over the other making an X over her chest with the straps. She wore a lang, dark coat and sweatpants that flopped around her shoes. Her face was calm, serious, and clear, but the small dart to the corners of her eye told no lies. She knew her pursurers. Robin took action, slapping his money on the table, ignoring his slowly chilling drink as he hurried out the cafe'. The pursurers had caught up to their prey and were pulling her into an alley. No one on the street paid any mind. In his mind, Robin went wild at the lack of action from the people in the street. Had they no shame? Had they no concern? Someone could get killed because they were too afraid to help! He stalked behind the group and listened to them from the alley. If they attacked, he'd stop them. One of them pushed her, not too hard, but not softly either, against the walls as the others loomed around, like vultures over a carcass.

"You're gonna pay for what you did, prat."

"Excuse me?" The woman's voice was calm, low, and laced with a bored tone. The others sneered at her monotone.

"Your stinking program ruined our industry. Now we're outta work, and its your fault!" one snarled. He heard her snort in disapproval.

"Or its your fault your so called industry was so full of flaws, or that you're all too much of a duderhead to be good at anything else." Robin was agape with disbelief. This woman had guts!

One of them snapped as they howled out, pulling back a fist, "You'll pay for that!"

Robin struck. Just like practice, he struck with force and procision. They were as clueless as dummies and twice as stupid. They attempted to swing at him with great huling fists, but with a carefully aimed sweep of his feet, they all soon ended up unconscious on the ground. He wiped off the tiny drop of sweat that had formed on his forehead. He had seen better motion from the practice droids. He turned to the woman.

She had mildly pulled out her phone and was dialing for the police. The experience seemed to have not stirred her in the least. She looked about as flustered as a rock. A small hint of a grin showed a slight amusement, as if she'd seen a dog do a minorly neat trick. She explained calmly to the police the situation before hanging up. Robin had already tied up the men and was about to leave the alley when her hand fell upon his shoulder.

He turned around in surprise. The grip Cyborg had on him was tight, and almost desperate. This one was softer, but commanding by all means.

"Thank you for that. Do you mind if I returned the favor?"

"Your welcome, and no thanks. I'll be okay." he mumbled trying to pull away. She tightened her grip. Robin could already tell she was the type who knew how to get what she wanted.

"I know you'll be okay. If you handled thugs like that, I'd say you'd be better," she noticed a small gleam of discomfort, left over from the incident in the Tower, "Or are you?"

"I'll be fine," he insisted, "You don't need to help or anything."

"Of course I don't need to," she said, rolling her eyes as if it were obvious, "No one ever needs to do anything they don't want to. But I do want to, so I will. In anycase," she tossed her head in the direction of her attackers, "You'll be intrigued how this situation arose to begin with." She ushered him out of the alley as policemen hurried over to the thugs, quickly erasing them from the place as Robin and the woman retreated to the cafe'.

"I'm a programmer for a company that snuffs out bad programs," the woman, Myra, Robin found out, explained, "I make programs that can detect and eliminate programs, as well as inform the authorites of their origins. We sell our program to computer companies to add to their software, and to private businesses such as music corporations to keep people from downloading music illegally." Robin listened carefully as he drank from a fresh cup. Myra drank as well, with the air of someone retelling and old story. "Those men were probably from a busted company that performed illegal practices. They'll be on the fritz now that some of their men have been caught, but I trust the police to prevent anything serious from happening."

"They should've prevented this from happening," Robin argued. Or the people outside at least, he couldn't help but think angrily.

"I guess you're angry at the citizens outside too," she shook her head hopelessly. Robin didn't need to ask how she knew. He was sure it was written all over his face. Even his mask didn't hide everything.

"How can they just go on without helping people? Don't they feel bad about it at all? Why-" She stopped him by holding up a hand. She knew how to control a tirade like this.

"They are only human. They cannot control their own fears, and that overcomes their wish to help others. In any case," he noticed a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, "That's what makes a difference between normal people, and heroes like you." Robin felt a small wave of comfort at this, and smiled, slightly sad. He still couldn't help but feel the sting of his own obsession that had hurt his friends so.

"Sometimes..."he began awkwardly, running a hand through his hair nervously, "I don't think I'm good enough to be a hero. I practice for hours on end, trying to get everything right, but sometimes its stressful," He paused slightly, worried to go on, "I've been worrying my friends."

"Your friends are right to be worried." she replied simply. Robin looked up in disbelief at her bluntness.

"I can't be sympathetic with you, because theres nothig to be sympathetic about. You're very right to feel ashamed." She was very serious, but her voice sounded like a light scold.

"Being the best, is a good goal. It's what I have to strive for everyday when I work. But I know that theere are priorites that mean something for one thing, and priorites that mean something to me. What I mean to say is, hard work is important for what you have to do. But what you want, what you love, is even more essential." she stood up, and slapped some money for the bill on the table. She was now smiling.

"You're a tough kid. I expect you'll get your priorites straightened out." And, as if nothing had happened, she disappeared into the sea of people.

Back at Titan Tower, the group had gathered in the living room, faces wrung with worry. It had been over an hour and Robin had not returned. Beast Boy and Cyborg had turned on their new game, but it was paused, fighter figures frozen in mid kick. Starfire hovered back and forth while Raven bit her lip slightly in worry. Beast Boy and Cyborg had their heads in their hands as they slouched on the couch.

"Aww man....I thought you said Robin would only be an hour!" Beast Boy whined in worry.

"I'd think he'd be back earlier than that, he's so strict on training," Cyborg replied, also worried.

"Maybe we should call him...." Starfire suggested, pulling out her communicator.

"I'm here."

Everyone looked in surprise to the prodigal leader. He stood quietly in the doorway. Everyone looked back, relieved, but nervous. To their surprise, Robin's face was lit up with a soft happiness. He walked casually to the couch before flopping down. All eyes were on him. He gave a cocky grin to Cyborg and picked up a controller.

"Best two outta three?"

Everyone lit up joyfully. Cyborg eagerly grabbed a controller as the pause was lifted along with all anxiety. Cyborg and Robin gamed fiercely as Beast Boy and Starfire cheered, while Raven smiled slightly.

Robin definitely knew his priorites now.


	3. Center of Your Universe

Summary: A drabble series of various Titans and villans having a chance meeting with one ordinary citizen and learning what it really means to be a hero.

Drabble Three: More Than Enough

Starfire was fluttering like a butterfly in stress and panic. Things were worse than bad. Worse than a villan trying to conquer the city! Worse than a global predicament! The worst of the worst!

Christmas.

The time of year where humans flurried across shopping centers, buying presents for loved ones with reckless abandon and where Christmas feasts were both large in size and expensive in type. Where more pounds were gained, and money lost, and where romantics eagerly fluttered from store to store, buying their sweethearts holly and tinsel. And poor Starfire was suffering the same epidemic as she had for her first Christmas last year. It had been disastrous as she assembled gifts from her own planet Tamaran, with chaotic results. Poor Cyborg still occasionally suffered glitches in his system from her present of a piece of alien electronics. Raven had to restrain the vicious book she recieved with her powers before sealing it into a chest and locking it away. It still rattled sometimes.

Which led Starfire to her latest crusade in the city mall.

She tore apart stores selling everything imaginable, everything her friends might like even remotely...but that wouldn't do. She needed presents that weren't terribly obivous, and not too overly emotional. Something that would last for a long time, but not be quickly dashed away into a chest. Locked up. And rattling. Starfire's better than average came to her advantage most of the time, swooping from store to store. But sometimes it was a curse, especially when she moved so fast she sent and older girl sprawling to the floor, items skittering across the mall floor like marbles. Apologizing as fast as she had moved she scooped up the scattered items. Few even noticed the girl had fallen, except for a small pack of well dressed schoolgirls, sniggering from their table at the food court.

"Fine...I'm fine..." the girl waved off Starfire's apologies as she piled everything pell mell back into the bag. Starfire was momentarily confused by her choice in presents. Cotton balls? Wood and plastic? Stickers and glitter? How odd....

"Please excuse my clumsiness for I am as dim as Gorhothian Blogtrotter-"

"Goodness sakes I'm fine!" She turned to glare at the table of snotty girls, giggling even harder at Starfire's "Gorhothian Blogtrotter". "Get lost you little brats! Go shrill like hyenas somewhere else!" she snapped at the girls, shooing them away from the embarassed Starfire. They drew themselves like offended rattlesnakes before darting off exclaiming offendedly all while shooting glowering glares at the girl, which were returned doubly.

"Ignorant twits." she muttered. She turned to an equally surprised Starfire, "I guess you're having present trouble too?"

"Too?" echoed Starfire in confusion, "You are also suffering a loss of picking presents?"

"Nope, but I've met a lot of people lately who have," she beckoned her to follow, "C'mon. I'll show you something that might come in handy."

"Somthing handy," turned out to be a platoon of tables, many filled with children but with a vareity of others as well. Myra, as Starfire learned the girl's name, had been shopping for the table's neccessites. Starfire timidly took a seat near Myra who handed out items for various table attendants.

"Our company's running a non-profit project for Christmas, where people can make presents for their friends and family if they can't afford or find any. You don't pay anything and can make a whole bunch of different things, photo frames, mittens, etc." Myra explained, holding out some packets of glitter and stickers to Starfire, who took them catuiously. Myra then sat down next to Starfire, helping a small child on her right while Starfire was left pondering what to make.

It had grown dark outside, and Starfire had still not made up her mind.

The children were all gone, with only a few elderly, and shabby, folks left to tinker with the items on the table. Myra seemed to notice Starfire sitting forlornly alone, and made a beeline for the chair in front of her.

"Still having problems?" she asked gently. Starfire nodded sadly.

"I am afraid I do not know my friends at all..." she confessed, fiddling with a plastic frame, "I think I do sometimes, but when I really need to know...it never seems to come. Just, a blank space..." Myra looked over the unfinished plastic frames, messed up mittens, and torn pictures left by clumsy children. Then she looked back at Starfire.

"It's hardly a picnic," Myra said slowly, picking up and undone frame, sparkling with glitter, "but more often than not, friends know each other best." She closed and empty space, "They're who you depend on when you're family can't, don't, won't, or have no clue on how to help you," She added a few stickers. "Most times they form your character, who you like can say a lot about you," She glued on foam stars, "But in the end, the finished result is always better than the beginning one," She slipped in a picture. Holding it out to Starfire, she smiled, fresh and warm as baked bread. Starfire took it and looked at the finished frame.

It was a galaxy of foamy stars, shiny planets and moons, and miniscule stardust, all in a perfect little square. In the center of this obscure universe, a dark haired girl held a blonde baby gently in her lap. Starfire saw who meant most in Myra's universe, even without knowing his name. She made to hand it back to Myra, but she shook her head.

"Keep it. Maybe you'll find out who's in the center of your universe too." she winked slightly and walked away, taller than a statue. Starfire put the frame delicately away in her coat pocket, and began to work...

On Christmas Day, the Titans were collected in the living room. All of course...except for Starfire.

"She's still asleep?" Robin wondered aloud, "I thought she'd be estatic for Christmas,"

"She's just exhausted from Christmas shopping is all," Raven said. She had seen her come in late last night, eyes weary but pleased as she shooed her away from her concealed bag.

"You don't think she's off...y'know...space shopping?" asked Beast Boy nervously. He still had nightmares about the piece of furniture from last year's Christmas.

"Nah...chill out BB. She knows better than to repeat that fiasco." Cyborg soothed, although he inwardly shuddered at the memory. They didn't have much longer to wait. At that moment Starfire burst in, looking dazzling in a tinsel trimmed outfit.

"Friends! Good cheer! It's Christmas!" she trilled musically. She handed out small, square presents, all wrapped as her friends looked curiously at them. What could it be? They all unwrapped hoping for the best, and dreading another galatic packages.

They were all surprised with picture frames.

But not ordinary ones. They were each different for each Titan. Raven's was dark and swathed with a gauzy, iridescent dark cloth and light glitter with small fake rhinestones set in to mak e it look like a piece of the galaxy, with their own stars. Beast Boy's was painted green with many foam leaves, stickers of animals peeking through the fen. Cyborg's was a light blue, with a microchip design, circular stickers with swirls placed at random, yet organized, places. And Robin's was with many, many stars of all colors, with a small, but noticeable pink heart in the corner. The frames all held a picture of them as a group, picked from their first Christmas.

Raven smiled secretly and tucked it away behind her cloak. Beast Boy chittered like a monkey over the design. Cyborg bragged over his intricacy. Robin looked curiously at Starfire from where she possibly coudl have gotten this.

Starfire just smiled, hands clasped over a picture of a girl holding a baby boy in a small galaxy...


	4. Someone Like You

Summary: A drabble series of various Titans and villans having a chance meeting with one ordinary citizen and learning what it really means to be a hero.

Drabble Four: Someone Like You

It began with a field trip.

Surrounded by her fellow, curious classmates, everyone fidgeted in their seats in a giant auditorium. The many shuffling of feet and hushed voices could be heard behind the curtains. A poster stood propped up on an easel, with an excellent drawing of a morbid mask and great big letters stretched out to spell, _The Masque of the Red Death: A Community Theatre Production_. And sitting excitedly in her seat, next to her friends in the third center row, was Terra.

For their English class, they had begun to study literature, in particular a comparison between Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe. They had already seen a different play the week before, and were due to have a comparison essay on both the plays. For once, Terra was proud to be considered normal enough to be able to go to school and have to do homework, rather than fight crime. She did regret bits of her old actions. Bits. She wished she knew herself as well as Beast Boy used to.

The students soon began to cheer as a young woman stepped out. Although not in costume, it was better than sitting around and waiting. She looked out onto the broad class and smiled slightly.

"Good afternoon everyone. My name is Myra Tucker and I am a represenative for the Little Company Theatre. Today you will be watching The Masque of the Red Death, sponsored by Jones Inc. and written for the live audience."

Terra noted she spoke almost mechanically, and could only guess she'd been repeating the same lines to herself over and over in front of the mirror. Somehow, the deadpanness of it all made her hold back a giggle. Miss Tucker caught her eye as she spoke, and Terra feared she'd been caught. But the smallest of twitches on her jaw signaled she too was in on the joke.

"-and will be asissted by music from the Lincoln High School Band." she gestured to a group of young musicians in the corner, "Ladies and gentleman, do enjoy."

She walked off stage and sat in the front row, reserved for important sponsors and directors. Before the curtains opened, she caught Terra's eye again and gave a wink. Terra smiled back before looking to the play along with Miss Tucker, both of their attentions no longer wavering.

It was a good play, with some pretty spectacular scenes and beautiful music on the part of both the band and the actors. But as the students began to file out to go home, Terra hung back, looking at the actors and stagehands tearing down the scenery.

"I'll see you tommorrow, okay?" she called out to her gesturing friends. They walked further and further until they were out of sight and Terra walked boldly to the stage. She scrambled up and was surprised to see Miss Tucker helping take down the heavy swathes of sparkly, gauzy material from the stage. She had taken off her dress jacket and rolled up her pants and her shiny leather shoes were placed away to the side of the stage. Terra rolled up her uniform shirt sleeves and gestured to the work. Miss Tucker stopped to look at her.

"Can I help?"

"Sure can," she replied. She spoke in a dull, monotone, and it reminded Terra so much like the robot-like speech she gave before and bit her lip to fight back giggles again. She helped take down screens, wrap up the shiny, dark gauze, and carried water bottles to parched workers and actors. She handed one to Miss Tucker who sat exhausted on the stage.

"Thanks," she rasped slightly, chugging down a good part of the water, "I can't tell you how exhausting it is for me to wear something like this," she scowled at her now crumpled suit, for more and an hour. It's irritating." Terra now laughed audibly, no longer worried about Miss Tucker getting mad. She sat next to her and drank from a water bottle too.

"I like the theatre. Not just the acting, but the scenery and props and how you light things, stage directions..." Terra said in a dreamy tone, "We don't have a Drama Club at our school though."

"It's never too late to start," Miss Tucker noted. Then, in a lower, more hurried voice, "You wouldn't happen to be from Canada would you?"

"No Miss Tucker," she whispered back, although not really knowing why, "I'm from the US."

"Oh, I thought..." she trailed off, a somewhat glazed look in her eye, "You reminded me of someone I knew." Then she changed to a less serious tone, "And none of that Miss Tucker business. I am nineteen and a half years old, I'm still at that age to just be called Myra."

"Sure thing Myra,"

They sat in silence, as everyone else left for the day, one by one. Eventually Myra too pulled on her shoes and tied her jacket around her waist.

"Let's go get some ice cream or something and talk about your school getting a Drama Club," she said ruffling Terra's hair, "It's a waste of talent if you can't project what you like to do."

They made their way to a fountain, and with a cone in each hand, they talked, not only about a Drama Club, but about a million other things. Like Myra's revolutionary method to sniffing out illegal activity on the internet.

"The only problem we're going through now are the people we've just ruined," she explained over the sound of rushing water in the fountain. Terra nodded as she ate her ice cream, urging her to continue. "They run out of money and the amount they manage to scrape after all the trials and prosecution is just enough to buy a cheap gun...but not nearly enough to start their careers over again. We've been using our increased income not only to fight new methods of hacking, piracy, etc. but also to make sure our employees are safe." She snorted slightly as she chomped at her own cone. "I'm supposed to be in the most trouble...since I'm running the whole shibang, but honestly. A few dumb, desperate crooks aren't about to drive me away."

"Couldn't you call the Teen Titans about it?" Terra asked unflinchingly. She'd moved on far enough to talk about them normally in public.

"Naw, they've got bigger fish to fry. Stuff like this is best kept in the hands of the police. Unless one of the hackers ends up being some product of an experiment or just has superpowers, we'll see. Otherwise we just make sure we have a good sense of when to duck." Terra giggled as she wiped smeared ice cream off her mouth. Myra gobbled the rest up uncouthly and brushed off the cone crumbs with her dress shirt, before growling in aggravation as she pulled up the sleeves again.

"Stupid dress code. It's okay when I'm at the office but I always have to look 'professional' for public gigs."

"We have a school dress code but I guess its not as bad," laughed Terra. Myra shivered.

"Yuck. I never wore my school uniform when I was a kid. I was quite the delinquent back then too." she smiled fondly as she remembered back to her troublemaking days. Terra looked curious.

"A delinquent? Like a gang leader?"

"I wasn't a gang leader, because I couldn't get along with anyone long enough to form a gang. I just went around, extorting property charges from other punks and guarding my little piece of territory." She seemed to look off to something beyond her field of vision, "But that was so very long ago, and I'm not repeating it anytime soon."

"It sounds like you had it pretty rough," Terra sympathized. She too, made terrible mistakes when she chose to walk on the wrong side of the tracks...

"It started worse and ended worse kid, let me tell you," Myra sighed, rubbing her temples, "When a person picks a way to grow early in their lifetime, its very difficult to grow a different way. It was for me..." she paused, biting her lip, "And I changed in end...but sometimes I wonder if the price of all that was worth it."

Terra looked away from the bitter gaze of Myra, who was looking out into the unknown with a deep regret. If Terra hadn't heard it from her mouth the first time, she'd wouldn't have believed the simalarity. Whatever Myra lost couldn't be any less as tragic as her losing her friends...and Beast Boy. Terra took a breath, and turned to look at her reflection in the fountain.

"There was once a girl," she began, "Who had no control. Over anything. She loved her friends...one more than others...but she wanted control. She never had it...but when it was offered to her, she jumped on it." Terra saw the faintest flash in the water...as if it was reflecting that horrid mistake, "She didn't take a good look at who was offering it...but when she saw him for the first time...she was already in too deep. She gained control...but she lost the things she cared about most. What propelled her to control herself. In the end...her friends were forced to put away this danger...and...she died." Terra closed her eyes, and Myra gave her a weak smile.

"I reckon I know that girl pretty well." she wheezed slightly. She put a hand over her eyes, casting a shadow over her face. Both were quiet for a moment, the gentle trickle of water behind them. Then Myra began.

"I too knew a girl. And she was angry. Always angry. She had only one person in her life who strived to make her happy, who she strived to make happy, but that love she shared with that one person was not enough. She loved that person dearly, but she was selfish. More selfish than your friend." she looked up at the sky, eyes watering, "She climbed to the top, cutting down every threat in her way. For a while, she shone...but then," Myra began to tremble, "You go up without going down later."

"It was like a stone rolling down a hill. She screamed and clawed to climb back up. But once she hit the bottom, that stone cracked, and her rage was horrifying to behold. And then, without any consciousness of what she was doing, one thing led to another, and the one person who ever gace her any affection lay dead on the ground." Myra wasn't crying. But Terra could see, anyone could see, that she was feeling the same pain from age old cracks. Myra stood up suddenly, causing Terra to gasp at the suddenness. Myra looked up further into the sky.

"There are many ways a tree can grow. They can grow honestly and have good healthy branches...or they can grow to be fruitless and twisted. Once you grow one way, the branches won't leave. Even if you decide to grow another way, a monumental task, those twisted, dead branches will always be there for the world to see." Then, to Terra's surprise, she turned to smile confidently.

"But you must never trim away what's a part of you. Once its a part of you, you must accept it and understand that if you don't, there will be a day when it'll be gone and you'll regret it." And with that ever proud smile, she bent over Terra and patted her head gently.

"Even if your friend," she smiled knowingly, "Has believed herself to be gone, those memories, those pains, are forever etched in her skin. It's painful to carry, but there are just some branches that have to be endured."

And then she was gone. Turned on a heel and left. And Terra was left by that trickling fountain, wondering if she really knew those girls after all...


End file.
